Resonating Chords and The Brain

Text yourself to set reminders. Not only are you reminded, but you get the satisfaction of receiving a message from yourself, which is always a nice surprise. I would turn on the vibration notification, it seems to be rather rewarding. But, again, this is all an individual preference, limited only by your willingness to talk AND listen to yourself. Self-therapy. Slide into your own DMs. Drunk text yourself. Send double, triple texts. Overuse the eggplant emoji. The sky is the limit.

I think one of the most unfortunate showering situations is as follows:

You are in the shower, listening to music. If you don’t shower with music, well,,, I’m sorry about that. I’d give it a shot. It really enhances the experience. Anyways.

You are showering with the music on. You are feeling audacious, so you put on a playlist that you know has some really sad songs on it. You’re a pleb, so you don’t own a fancy wireless device to change songs mid-lather whilst washing yourself. One thing leads to another and you find yourself on the verge of tears after being forced to listen to “Lying to You” by Keaton Henson for what seems like an aquatic eternity. The shampoo was tear-free, but here you are, sobbing in the shower, stuck in this sanitary audio-prison, with tear-free shampoo in your teary eyes. How unfortunate.

Just as a disclaimer, I do not use tear-free shampoo. I understand the risks of showering, and I am willing to pay the price if some of my shampoo gets into my eyes.

Also, I dyed part of my hair blonde. Pretty wicked.

I want to start an art collection that is just a bunch of fMRI pictures of peoples’ brains while they are dreaming. A picture is worth a thousand words, but a picture of a dream? Well, that is quite an interesting endeavor. Of course, it would just be a pretty representation of blood flow, but isn’t that what it all boils down to? Just some blood, chemicals, and electricity? Being a dream scientist,,, that would be quite the adventure.

So I have been at moral and philosophical war with myself. I’ve been referring to it as a “quarter-life crisis.” Realistically, if I live 80 years (which would, in itself, be a wonderful blessing, but I’d like to go for longer. However, I hear interest rates are getting high) and I am almost 20 years old, my life is essentially one-fourth of the way over. That, sends me into an existential meltdown, but it is the truth. Just a lot of self-analysis and introspection and doubt and regret and battling between what is good for my wallet and what is good for my soul. The battle between society and morality seems to be never-ending. I do believe, however, that things are looking up, but again, this is an ebb-and-flow state of mind. My mood has been rather ocean-like recently:

1.Very dynamic, but rhythmic. Not predictable, however.

2. I don’t know much about it except for that it’s easy to get caught in its riptides, and

3. If I shit in it, other people won’t know the difference.

I think I’m doing okay.

What really bothers me is that I have no way to explain to my plants why the sun goes away every night. I wish I could tell them that the sun will be back, but I can’t. I wish that I could give them the sun, give them everything that they need, always.

I think I’m doing okay.

I’ve started to learn how to play some songs on the ukulele. Really great stress-reliever. Thanks to my pal for letting me borrow it *100 emoji*

Also, I’ve been really considering this conjectural thought process:

Science is a way to describe Nature.

Art, in many ways, mimics Nature.

Therefore, Science is Art.

I hope I’m going to be doing okay.

And, of course, I hope with all of my being that you are doing very v much okay.